Samuel Pepys and the World He Lived In by Henry B Henry Benjamin Wheatley

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Title: Samuel Pepys and the World He Lived In
Author: Henry B. (Henry Benjamin) Wheatley
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Transcriber’s Note

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illustrations.

Cover

Nell Gwyn

Samuel Pepys

AND THE

WORLD HE LIVED IN.

BY

HENRY B. WHEATLEY, F.S.A.

“His Diary is like a good sirloin, which requires only to be basted with its own

drippings.”—Athenæum, 1848, page 551.

Second Edition.

Decoration

LONDON:

BICKERS AND SON, 1, LEICESTER SQUARE.

1880.

CHISWICK PRESS: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.

Decoration

P R E F A C E.

[v]

HIS little book does not need any long Preface, as the title sufficiently explains the object aimed at.
Although the various subjects referred to in the “Diary” are annotated in the different editions, there is
in none of these any complete analysis of the entire work or of the incidents of Pepys’s life.

I have endeavoured in the following pages to draw together some of the most interesting incidents

of the “Diary” relating both to Pepys’s life and to the manners of his time, and also to illustrate them

from other sources. I have used the best edition of the “Diary,” by the Rev. Mynors Bright; but in order that this book
may form a companion to all editions I have referred to the date of the entries rather than to the volume and page. It
must therefore be understood that the passages referred to when not met with in the other editions will be found among
the hitherto unpublished matter of that of Mr. Bright. It has been my endeavour to illustrate the contents of this
entertaining work more completely than has previously been attempted, and several of the circumstances of Pepys’s life
are here brought prominently forward for the first time. I may add that the whole of the present volume was printed off
before the appearance of the excellent article in the July number of the “Edinburgh Review” (1880), as otherwise it
might be supposed that certain points had been suggested by that article. I have, however, availed myself of its pages to
make a correction of a small matter in the Index.

Mr. T. C. Noble has kindly sent me, since the completion of this book, a copy of Pepys’s original marriage

certificate from the Registers of St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster, and I therefore insert it here to complete the
account in Chapter I. “Samuell Peps of this parish Gent & Elizabeth De Snt Michell of Martins in the ffeilds Spinster.
Published October 19th, 22nd, 29th [1655] and were married by Richard Sherwyn Esqr one of the Justices of the Peace
of the Cittie and Lyberties of Westmr December 1st. (Signed) Ri. Sherwyn.”

The pronunciation of Pepys’s name has long been a disputed point, but although the most usual form at the present

day is Peps, there can be little doubt that in his own time the name was pronounced as if written Peeps. The reasons for
this opinion are: (1) that the name was sometimes so spelt phonetically by some of his contemporaries, as in the Coffee-
house paper quoted in the “Diary” (ed. Mynors Bright, vol. vi. p. 292): “On Tuesday last Mr. Peeps went to Windsor,”
&c.; (2) that this pronunciation is still the received one at Magdalene College, Cambridge; and (3) that the present
bearers of the name so pronounce it.

In conclusion, it is my pleasing duty to express here my best thanks to those friends who have kindly assisted me in

my work. Chief among these are Professor Newton, F.R.S., who, as Fellow of Magdalene College, facilitated my
inquiries respecting the Pepysian Library, Mr. Pattrick, Senior Fellow and President of the College, Mr. Pepys
Cockerell, Mr. George Scharf, F.S.A., Mr. Richard B. Prosser, of the Patent Office, who communicated the
documents relating to Mrs. Pepys’s father, and Colonel Pasley, whose List of the Secretaries of the Admiralty, &c., in
the Appendix will be found of great value, not merely in illustrating Pepys’s life, but as a real addition to our information
respecting the history of the Navy.

H. B. W.

5, Minford Gardens, W.,

September, 1880.

P.S. Since the first publication of this book I have received an interesting letter from Mr. Walter Courtenay Pepys, a

member of the Cottenham branch of the Pepys family, who, while agreeing with the statement above as to the Diarist’s
pronunciation, reminds me that his branch have pronounced the name as “Pep-pis” for at least one hundred years. In
favour of this pronunciation Mr. Pepys adds that the French branch, which is now settled at La Rochelle, but came from
Languedoc and originally from Italy (where the name exists as “Peppi”), now spell the name “Pepy.”

Decoration

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Preface

v

Chap.
I. Pepys before the Diary
1

″
II. Pepys in the Diary
16

″
III. Pepys after the Diary
46

[vi]

[vii]

[viii]

[ix]

″
IV. Tangier
63

″
V. Pepys’s Books and Collections
77

″
VI. London
100

″
VII. Pepys’s Relations, Friends, and Acquaintances
116

″
VIII. The Navy
128

″
IX. The Court
159

″
X. Public Characters
183

″
XI. Manners
199

″
XII. Amusements
217

″
XIII. Conclusion
232

Appendix
I. Portraits of Pepys
237

″
II. Schemes of Alexander Marchant, Sieur de St. Michel (Mrs. Pepys’s Father)
241

″
III. Pepys’s Manuscripts at Oxford
251

″
IV. Musical Instruments
252

″
V. Pepys’s Correspondents
254

″
VI. List of Secretaries of the Admiralty, Clerks of the Acts, &c., drawn up by Colonel

Pasley, R.E.
266

″
VII. Plays which Pepys saw acted
289

Index

297

Decoration

S A M UE L P E P Y S A N D T H E W O R L D H E

L I V E D I N.

CHAPTER I.

PEPYS BEFORE THE DIARY.

“He was a pollard man, without the top (i. e. the reason as the source of ideas, or immediate yet not sensuous truths,

having their evidence in themselves; or the imagination or idealizing power, by symbols mediating between the reason and the
understanding), but on this account more broadly and luxuriantly branching out from the upper trunk.”—Coleridge’s MS. note
in his copy of the “Diary” (Notes and Queries, 1st S. vol. vi. p. 215).

AMUEL PEPYS was the first of a well-established stock to make a name in the outer world, but
since his time the family can boast of having had amongst its members a Court physician, a bishop,
and a lord chancellor.

The earliest recorded Pepys was named Thomas, and appears, on the authority of the Court Rolls

of the manor of Pelhams, in Cottenham, to have been bailiff of the Abbot of Crowland’s lands in

Cambridgeshire, in the early part of the reign of Henry VI.[1] From that time the family flourished, and there seems to be
some reason for believing that certain members enriched themselves with the spoils of the abbey lands in the time of
Henry VIII.

Before the Diarist became known, one of the most distinguished members of the family was Richard Pepys, created

Lord Chief Justice of Ireland by Charles I. When the King was executed, Richard resigned his office; but he enjoyed
the favour of Cromwell, and resumed the place. As he did not die until 1678, it is strange that there should be no

[1]

[2]

allusion to him in the “Diary.”

The branch from which Samuel was descended had not much money; and his father, being a younger son, came to

London and became a tailor. This descent in the social scale has caused much misapprehension, and his enemies did not
forget to taunt him on his connection with tailoring; but it is a well-accredited axiom that trade does not injure gentry.
Some remarks of Pepys himself upon his family have been greatly misunderstood. Referring to the non-appearance of
any account of the Pepyses in Fuller’s “Worthies,” he writes:—“But I believe, indeed, our family were never
considerable.”[2] Dr. Doran paraphrased this into: “Let others say of his family what they might: he, for his own part, did
not believe that it was of anything like gentle descent.”[3] This is a pure blunder, for Pepys merely meant that none of the
family had made much mark; and he would have been very indignant had any one told him that they were not gentle.

Samuel, the fifth child of John and Margaret Pepys, was born on February 23rd, 1632, either at Brampton, a village

near Huntingdon, or in London. There is something to be said in favour of each supposition, but, as the registers of
Brampton church do not commence until the year 1654,[4] the question cannot now be definitely settled. We have
Pepys’s own authority for the statement that his father and mother were married at Newington, in Surrey, on October
15th, 1626.[5] The register of marriages of St. Mary, Newington, has been searched, but the name of Pepys occurs
neither in the years 1625, 1626, nor in 1627,[6] and Mrs. John Pepys’s maiden name is still unknown. In early youth,
Samuel went to a school at Huntingdon, as appears by a passage in the “Diary” (March 15th, 1659–60), where he
writes: “I met Tom Alcock, one that went to school with me at Huntingdon, but I had not seen him this sixteen years.”
He seems to have spent his youth pretty equally between town and country, for on one occasion, when he was walking
over the fields to Kingsland, he remembered the time when, as a boy, he lived there, and “used to shoot with my bow
and arrow in these fields.”[7] When he left Huntingdon he entered St. Paul’s School, and remained there until he had
reached the age of seventeen. In after life, on the occasion of an official visit to Mercers’ Hall, he remembered the time
when he was a petitioner for his exhibition.[8] He was a stout Roundhead in his boyish days, and this fact was remarked
upon, to his great chagrin, in after years, by his friend and schoolfellow Mr. Christmas. He went to see the execution of
Charles I. at Whitehall, and made himself conspicuous by saying on his return that, were he to preach upon the event of
the day, he should select as his text the verse: “The memory of the wicked shall rot.” He was in some fear that Mr.
Christmas might remember this also, but he was happy to find that that gentleman had left school before the incident
occurred.[9] Pepys always took a lively interest in the welfare of his school, to which references are frequently made in
the “Diary.”

In 1650, his name occurs as a sizar on the boards of Trinity College, Cambridge; but before going to reside at the

University, on March 5, 1650–51,[10] he was entered at Magdalene College, having probably been led to make the
change by the greater inducements held out to him by the latter college. Here he was elected into one of Mr.
Spendluffe’s scholarships in the following month; and two years later, on October 14, 1653, he was preferred to one
on Dr. John Smith’s foundation. His father was at this time described as a citizen of London.

Little is known of Samuel’s academic career, during which he does not appear to have gained much distinction; and

remarks in various parts of the “Diary” show that his conduct was not such as became a Puritan. The College books
can be brought as a witness against him, for we learn from that source that, on October 21st, 1653, “Peapys and Hind
were solemnly admonished ... for having been scandalously over-served with drink the night before.” Still, we must not
jump to the conclusion that his time was entirely wasted, for he evidently carried into his busy life a good stock of
classical learning. It was while he was at the University that he made the acquaintance of the learned Selden, from
whom he borrowed the collection of ballads which formed the basis of the famous Pepysian collection. He relates that,
while at Cambridge, he wrote a romance entitled, “Love a Cheate,” which he tore up on the 30th of January, 1663–64.
This work of destruction must have been performed with some feelings of regret, for he tells us that he rather liked the
tale, and wondered that he had ever been able to write so well. His previous literary performances had consisted in the
concocting of some anagrams upon Mrs. Elizabeth Whittle, afterwards the wife of Sir Stephen Fox.[11] It is not
recorded at what time Pepys left college, but it must have been either in 1654 or 1655. He was made Master of Arts
by proxy, in June, 1660, the grace being passed on the 26th of that month.

On the 1st of December, 1655,[12] when he was still without any settled means of support, Pepys married Elizabeth

St. Michel, a beautiful and portionless girl of fifteen. Although there is extant a letter from Balthasar St. Michel to Pepys
(dated from Deal, February 8th, 1673–74), in which the history of Mrs. Pepys’s family is set forth, Lord Braybrooke
was contented with the information on her monument, and merely added that she was educated in a convent, which in
point of fact she was not. The letter alluded to was printed as far back as the year 1841,[13] and yet I cannot find that
the history contained in it has ever been used by the biographers of Pepys. What is even more remarkable than Lord
Braybrooke’s silence respecting it, is the fact that the Rev. John Smith, who published the letter, overlooked it when he
wrote his introduction. Mons. St. Michel was of a good family in Anjou, but having turned Huguenot at the age of
twenty-one, when in the German service, his father disinherited him, and he was left penniless. He came over to England
in the retinue of Henrietta Maria, on her marriage with Charles I., as one of her Majesty’s gentleman carvers; but the
Queen dismissed him on finding out that he was a Protestant, and did not go to mass. Being a handsome man with
courtly manners, he gained the affections of the daughter of Sir Francis Kingsmall (lately left a widow by an Irish
squire), who married him against the wishes of her family, and, with £1,500 which they raised, the newly-married
couple started for France, in the hope of recovering, if possible, some part of the family estates. Unhappily, they were
taken prisoners at sea, with all their goods, by the Dunkirkers, and when released they settled at Bideford, in

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

Devonshire. Here, or near by, Elizabeth and Balthasar and the rest of the family were born.

In course of time they all went to France, and the father, in command of a company of foot, assisted at the taking of

Dunkirk. He occupied his time with propositions of perpetual motion and other visionary schemes, and consequently
brought himself and all dependent upon him to the brink of poverty. While he was away from Paris, some devout
Roman Catholics persuaded Madame St. Michel to place her daughter in the nunnery of the Ursulines. The father was
enraged at this action, but managed to get Elizabeth out of the nunnery after she had been there twelve days. Thinking
that France was a dangerous place to live in, he hurried his family back to England, and shortly afterwards Elizabeth
married Pepys. Her father was greatly pleased that she had become the wife of a true Protestant; and she herself said to
him, kissing his eyes, “Dear father, though in my tender years I was by my low fortune in this world deluded to popery
by the fond dictates thereof, I have now (joined with my riper years, which give me more understanding) a man to my
husband too wise, and one too religious in the Protestant religion, to suffer my thoughts to bend that way any more.”

There are several references in the “Diary” to Mrs. Pepys’s father and mother, who seem never to have risen out of

the state of poverty into which they had sunk. On May 2, 1662, Mons. St. Michel took out a patent, in concert with Sir
John Collidon and Sir Edward Ford,[14] for the purpose of curing smoky chimneys; but this scheme could not have
been very successful, as a few months afterwards he was preparing to go to Germany in order to fight against the
Turks.[15] Pepys gave him some work to do in 1666, and Mrs. Pepys carried the account-books that he was to rule;
but such jobs as these must have given him but a sorry living, and in the following year he again proposed to go abroad.
Pepys sent him three jacobuses in gold to help him on his journey.[16] We hear nothing more of either father or mother,
with the exception of an allusion to their pleasure at seeing the prosperous state of their daughter[17]—a prosperity in
which they certainly did not share.

This account of Mrs. Pepys’s parentage has led us away from the early days of Pepys, when, with improvident

passion, he married his young wife; and we will therefore return to the year 1655. Early marriages were then far from
uncommon, and Mrs. Pepys’s beauty was considered as forming a very valid excuse for the improvidence of the match.
There seems to be some reason for believing that she was of a dark complexion, for her husband on one occasion was
mad with her for dressing herself according to the fashion in fair hair.[18] Sir Edward Montagu, who was Pepys’s first
cousin one remove (Samuel’s grandfather and Sir Edward’s mother being brother and sister), gave a helping hand to
the imprudent couple, and allowed them to live in his house. The Diarist alludes to this time, when, some years
afterwards, he writes of how his wife “used to make coal fires, and wash” his “foul clothes with her own hand,” in their
little room at Lord Sandwich’s.[19]

Samuel does not appear to have lived with his father after he had grown up, and as old John Pepys was not a very

thriving tradesman, it seems likely that Montagu had previously assisted his young kinsman. Indeed, it was probably
under his patronage that Samuel went to the University.

The Diarist seems to have held some official position in the year 1656, because on Thursday, August 7th, a pass was

granted “to John Pepys and his man with necessaries for Holland, being on the desire of Mr. Samll. Pepys.”[20] John
Pepys had probably long been in the habit of going backwards and forwards to Holland, for Samuel writes (January
24th, 1665–66): “We went through Horslydowne, where I never was since a little boy, that I went to enquire after my
father, whom we did give over for lost coming from Holland.” Whether these journeys were undertaken in the way of
business, or whether they had any connection with Montagu’s affairs, we cannot now tell. That Samuel acted as a sort
of agent for Montagu, we have evidence; and among the Rawlinson Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library is a
memorandum of the payment to him on General Montagu’s part for the ransom of the Marquis of Baydez (22nd
January, 1656–57).

On March 26th, 1658, he underwent an operation for the stone, a disease that seems to have been inherited. The

operation was successfully performed, and ever after he made a practice of celebrating the anniversary of this important
event in his life with thanksgiving.

In 1659 he accompanied Sir Edward Montagu in the “Naseby,” when that admiral made his expedition to the Sound;

and he was very surprised to learn afterwards how negotiations had been carried on of which at the time he was quite
ignorant. This is not the place for a history of the various stages that led to the Restoration, but a passing allusion to one
of these may be allowed here, as the particulars are given in the “Diary.” When Sir Edward Montagu left England for
the Sound, he said to the Protector Richard, on parting with him, that “he should rejoice more to see him in his grave at
his return home, than that he should give way to such things as were then in hatching, and afterwards did ruin him.”[21]
Finding the condition of affairs in England hopeless, Montagu took advantage of this expedition to correspond with
Charles II.; but he had to be careful and secret, for his fellow-plenipotentiary, Algernon Sidney, who suspected him,
was an enemy.[22] Pepys’s remark on finding out what had been going on under his nose was, “I do from this raise an
opinion of him, to be one of the most secret men in the world, which I was not so convinced of before.”[23]

On Pepys’s return to England he was employed in the office of Mr., afterwards Sir George, Downing, as a clerk of

the Exchequer connected with the pay of the army, and soon afterwards commenced to keep the “Diary” which we
now possess.

The account of the incidents of Pepys’s early life must be more or less fragmentary, as they can be obtained merely

from occasional allusions; and it is only in the next chapter, in which we see Pepys in the “Diary,” that we can obtain any
full idea of the man as painted by himself. Before passing on to this part of our subject, it will be well to set down a few

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

notes on the “Diary” as a book. The book has thrown such a flood of light upon the history and manners of the middle
of the seventeenth century, that we are apt to forget the fact that before the year 1825 the world knew nothing of this
man of gossip. Yet so ungrateful are we to our benefactors, that the publication of the “Diary” did an immense injury to
the writer’s reputation. Previously he was known as a staid, trustworthy, and conscientious man of business; as a patron
of science and literature, and as a President of the Royal Society. Jeremy Collier says, he was “a philosopher of the
severest morality.” Since 1825 we have been too apt to forget the excellence of his official life, and to think of him only
as a busybody and a quidnunc.

When Pepys’s library was presented to Magdalene College, Cambridge, by his nephew, John Jackson, in 1724,

there were, among the other treasures, six small volumes of closely-written MS. in shorthand (upwards of three
thousand pages in all), which attracted little or no notice until after the publication of Evelyn’s “Diary.” Then it was that
the Hon. and Rev. George Neville, Master of the College, drew them out of their obscurity, and submitted them to his
kinsman, the well-known statesman, Lord Grenville, who had as a law student practised shorthand. Lord Grenville
deciphered a few of the pages, and drew up an alphabet and list of arbitrary signs. These were handed to John Smith,
an undergraduate of St. John’s College, who undertook to decipher the whole. He commenced his labours in the spring
of 1819, and completed them in April, 1822—having thus worked for nearly three years, usually for twelve and
fourteen hours a day.[24] What was remarkable in all this was, that in the Pepysian library there rested a little volume
which contained the account of Charles II.’s escape after the battle of Worcester, taken down in shorthand by Pepys
from the King’s dictation, and written out by himself in long-hand. Here, therefore, was the key that would have
unlocked the “Diary” quite overlooked. Lord Braybrooke made the statement that the cipher used by Pepys “greatly
resembled that known by the name of Rich’s system;” but this was misleading, as the system really adopted was the
earlier one of Thomas Shelton. Mr. J. E. Bailey, F.S.A., communicated a very valuable paper, “On the Cipher of
Pepys’s Diary,” to the Manchester Literary Club in 1876, in which he gave particulars of the various old systems of
shorthand, and expressed the opinion that Pepys made himself familiar with Shelton’s “Tachygraphy”[25] while a student
at Cambridge. The earliest edition of Rich’s “Pen’s Dexterity” was published in 1654, while in 1642 Shelton could refer
to twenty years’ experience as a shorthand-writer. When the Rev. Mynors Bright was about to decipher the “Diary”
afresh, he consulted Shelton’s book, a copy of which, with other works on shorthand, is preserved in the Pepysian
Library. Mr. Bright informs us that, “When Pepys wished to keep anything particularly concealed, he wrote his cipher
generally in French, sometimes in Latin, or Greek, or Spanish. This gave me a great deal of trouble. Afterwards he
changed his plan and put in dummy letters. I was quite puzzled at this, and was nearly giving up in despair the hope of
finding out his device, but at last, by rejecting every other letter, I made out the words. It would have been better for
Pepys’s credit if these passages could not have been deciphered, as all of them are quite unfit for publication.”

Pepys was a great lover of shorthand, and he was always ready to invent a character, as it was then called, for a

friend. He used the art in drafting his public and private letters; and although he was forced to discontinue his “Diary” in
1669, on account of the weakness of his eyesight, he continued its use throughout his life.

We learn from the “Diary” itself some particulars of how it was written. The incidents of each day were dotted down

in short, and then the writer shut himself up in his office to fill up all the details. Sometimes he was in arrear: thus we
read, on January 1st, 1662–63, “So to my office to set down these two or three days’ journal;” on September 24th,
1665, “Then I in the cabin to writing down my journal for these last seven days to my great content;” and on November
10th, 1665, “Up and entered all my journal since the 28th of October, having every day’s passage well in my head,
though it troubles me to remember it.”

Lord Braybrooke, who first introduced the “Diary” to the public, had no very accurate notions of the duties of an

editor; and he treated his manuscript in a very unsatisfactory manner. Large portions were omitted without explanation,
and apparently without reason; and although much was added to succeeding editions, still the reader might well say—

“That cruel something unpossess’d
Corrodes and leavens all the rest.”

The third edition, published in 1848, contained a large mass of restored passages, amounting, it is said, to not less

than one-fourth of the entire work. Some fresh notes were added to the fourth edition, published in 1854; but no
alteration of the text was made beyond “the correction of a few verbal errors and corrupt passages hitherto
overlooked.” Subsequent editions have been mere reprints of these. In 1875 appeared the first volume of the Rev.
Mynors Bright’s entirely new edition, with about one-third of matter never yet published, all of which was of the true
Pepysian flavour. Here was a treat for the lovers of the “Diary” which they little expected.

Having traced the particulars of Pepys’s life to the year 1659, and described the way in which the “Diary” was

written, and the means by which it first saw the light, I will now pass on to notice, in the next chapter, the chief personal
incidents recorded in the book itself.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] “Diary,” ed. Mynors Bright, vol. iv. p. 366; vol. vi. p. 306.

[2] “Diary,” Feb. 10, 1661–62.

[3] “Habits and Men,” p. 300.

[12]

[13]

[14]

[15]

[4] I am indebted to the kindness of the Rev. Herbert Bree, Rector of Brampton, for this information.

[5] “Diary,” Dec. 31, 1664.

[6] “Notes and Queries,” 1st S. vol. xii. p. 102.

[7] “Diary,” May 12, 1667.

[8] Jan. 22, 1660–61.

[9] Nov. 1, 1660.

[10] “Did put on my gown first, March 5, 1650–51,” Dec. 31, 1664 (note).

[11] “Diary,” Nov. 11, 1660.

[12] Lord Braybrooke says October, but the “Athenæum” (1848, p. 551) says December 1st.

[13] “Life, Journals, and Correspondence of S. Pepys,” vol. i. p. 146.

[14] “Diary,” Sept. 22, 1663. In the original patent (No. 138) St. Michel’s name appears as Alexander Merchant

of St. Michaell. (See Appendix.)

[15] Jan. 4, 1663–64.

[16] June 21, 1667.

[17] Dec. 28, 1668.

[18] “Diary,” May 11, 1667.

[19] Feb. 25, 1666–67.

[20] Entry-Book No. 105 of the Protector’s Council of State, p. 327 (quoted, “Notes and Queries,” 5th S. vol. v.

p. 508).

[21] “Diary,” June 21, 1660.

[22] March 8, 1664–65.

[23] Nov. 7, 1660.

[24] Smith afterwards took orders, and was presented to the rectory of Baldock in Hertfordshire by Lord

Brougham in 1832, at the instigation of Harriet Martineau. In 1841 he published two octavo volumes, entitled, “The
Life, Journals, and Correspondence of Samuel Pepys, Esq., F.R.S.” This wretchedly edited book contains the
Tangier “Diary” and much valuable information; but I cannot find that the information has been used by the
successive editors of the “Diary.” He died in 1870.

[25] “Tachygraphy. The most exact and compendious methode of short and swift writing that hath ever yet

beene published by any. Composed by Thomas Shelton, author and professor of the said art. Approued by both
Unyuersities. Ps. 45, 1, My tongue is as the pen of a swift writer.” 1641.

Decoration

CHAPTER II.

PEPYS IN THE “DIARY.”

“An exact Diary is a window into his heart that maketh it: and therefore pity it is that any should look therein but either the

friends of the party or such ingenuous foes as will not, especially in things doubtful, make conjectural comments to his
disgrace.”—Prynne’s Remarks on Abp. Laud.

[16]

N the 1st of January, 1659–60, Samuel Pepys (then in his twenty-seventh year) commenced to write
his famous “Diary.” If, as seems more than probable, he had previously kept a journal of some kind,
all traces of it are now lost; and our earliest glimpses of the circumstances of his life are to be
obtained only from the “Diary,” which is by far the most remarkable book of its kind in existence.
Other men have written diaries and confessions, but they have been intended either for the public or
at least for a small circle of friends to see. This “Diary” was only intended for the writer’s eye. He

wrote it in secret, and when he unguardedly told Sir William Coventry in the Tower that he kept a diary, he was sorry
for his indiscretion immediately afterwards. Pepys has been likened to the barber of King Midas, who relieved his mind
by communicating to a bundle of reeds the fact that his master had the ears of an ass; and assuredly no other writer has
so unreservedly stripped his soul bare. It is, therefore, only fair to bear in mind what is said in the motto at the head of
this chapter, and not to forget that very few could bear the accusing witness of such a truthful record of thoughts as well
as actions as is here. The “Diary” extends over nearly ten eventful years in the history of England, and contains a
voluminous record of both public and private events. The fascination of Pepys’s garrulity is so great, that most of those
who have written about him have found it difficult to restrain their praise within bounds. A writer in the “Athenæum”
(apparently the late Peter Cunningham) was quite carried away by his subject when he wrote—“He has the minuteness
of Dee and Ashmole without their tediousness, the playfulness of Swift in his best moments without his prejudice and his
party feelings, and a charm over Byron and Scott, and, indeed, above all other memorialists that we can call to mind, in
that his Diary was kept without the slightest view to publication.”[26]

I will now first note some of the chief circumstances of Pepys’s life during the period covered by the “Diary,” and

then say something about his character as it is painted by himself.

When we are first introduced to Pepys he is living in Axe Yard, Westminster, with very small means of support, but

making so good a show that he is esteemed rich. His family consists of himself, his wife, and servant Jane. During the
frosty weather they have not a coal in the house, and he is forced to dine at his father’s, or make himself as comfortable
as he can up in the garret. That the larder is not very plentifully supplied is seen by the fact that, on the 1st of February,
he and his wife dine on pease pudding, and on nothing else. At one time he has not money enough in the house to pay
the rent, but soon afterwards he finds himself worth £40 which he did not expect, and is therefore afraid that he must
have forgotten something. On the 16th of January, Mr. Downing (in whose office he then was) asked our Diarist, in a
half-hearted way, whether he would go to Holland, and gave him the impression that his services could be dispensed
with. At this time political affairs were in the greatest confusion, and no one knew what opinions to hold with profit to
himself. Thus, William Symons said that “he had made shift to keep in, in good esteem and employment through eight
governments in one year, and then failed unhappy in the ninth, viz., that of the King’s coming in.”[27]

As in times of anarchy every one wishes to talk, the Rota, or Coffee Club founded by James Harrington, the author

of “Oceana,” was found to be a congenial resort by those who wished to express their opinions on passing events. The
principle of the club was political, and the plan formed there for the government of the country was, that every official
should be chosen by ballot. Every year a third part of the House of Commons were to “rote out by ballot,” and no
magistrate was to continue in his position more than three years. Other than politicians attended the meetings, and many
distinguished men, such as Dr. Petty, Dr. Croon, Sir William Poultney, and Cyriack Skinner, were to be found in the
evening at the Turk’s Head, in the New Palace Yard. The room was usually as full as it would hold, and Aubrey gives it
as his opinion that the arguments heard in Parliament were flat as compared with those delivered at the Rota Club. The
object of worship was the ballot-box, and the company sat round an oval table, which had a passage in the middle for
Miles, the landlord, to deliver his coffee. Pepys paid his eighteen-pence on becoming a member of the club, on the 9th
of January, 1659–60, and he frequently attended after this. If the following can be considered as a good illustration of
proceedings, there must have been considerable divergence in the opinions of the members:—“I went to the Coffee
Club and heard very good discourse; it was in answer to Mr. Harrington’s answer, who said that the state of the
Roman government was not a settled government, and so it was no wonder that the balance of property was in one
hand, and the command in another, it being therefore always in a posture of war; but it was carried by ballot, that it was
a steady government; so to-morrow it is to be proved by the opponents that the balance lay in one hand and the
government in another.”[28] On the 20th of February, Pepys writes: “After a small debate upon the question whether
learned or unlearned subjects are best, the club broke up very poorly, and I do not think they will meet any more.”
After the Restoration Harrington was put in the Tower, and then removed to Portsea Castle. His imprisonment turned
him mad, so that he fancied his perspiration turned sometimes to flies and sometimes to bees, but all his hallucinations
were inoffensive. One of the first steps taken by Monk towards obtaining a free Parliament was the admission of the
secluded members who had been previously purged out. Pepys describes the marching-in of these men on the 21st of
February, and specially notices Prynne’s “old basket-hilt sword.” The editors of the “Diary” might have illustrated this
by an amusing passage from Aubrey’s “Lives.” It appears that as the members were going to the House, Prynne’s long
rusty sword “ran between Sir William Waller’s short legs, and threw him down;” which caused laughter, as Aubrey
takes care to add. About this time Pepys seems to have discerned the signs of the times, for we find him, on a visit to
Audley End, drinking the health of the King down in a cellar.[29] Sir Edward Montagu now comes to the front, and is
intent upon benefiting his kinsman. Pepys hopes to be made Clerk of the Peace for Westminster, but finds the place
already promised to another. Montagu offers him the post of Secretary to the Generals at Sea, which he joyfully
accepts; and he receives his warrant on the 22nd of March. The following day sees the party on board the “Swiftsure”
at Longreach, where Pepys receives a letter directed to “S. P., Esq.,” and this superscription seems to have delighted
him greatly, for he says, “of which God knows I was not a little proud.” On the 30th inst. Montagu and his people went

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21]

on board the “Naseby,” which was the ship in which he had gone to the Sound in the previous year. They remain for a
time in the neighbourhood of Deal, and on the 3rd of May the King’s declaration and letter to the two generals is
received by Montagu, who dictates to Pepys the words in which he wishes the vote in favour of the King to be
couched. The captains all came on board the “Naseby,” and Pepys read the letter and declaration to them; and while
they were discoursing on the subject he pretended to be drawing up the form of vote, which Montagu had already
settled. When the resolution was read, it passed at once; and the seamen all cried out, “God bless King Charles!” a cry
that was echoed by the whole fleet. A little piece of Pepys’s vanity (and perhaps shrewdness also) here peeps out, for
he tells us that he signed all the copies of the vote of the Council of War, so that if it should by chance get into print his
name might be attached to it.[30] The English fleet lies off the Dutch coast about the middle of May, and our Diarist
avails himself of the opportunity to visit the Hague and some of the chief towns of Holland. The Dukes of York and
Gloucester came on board the “Naseby” on the 22nd inst., and the King followed them on the following day, when the
opportunity of his visit was taken to change the objectionable names of the ships. The “Naseby” became the “Charles,”
the “Richard” the “James,” the “Speaker” the “Mary,” and the “Lambert” the “Henrietta.”

“The Naseby now no longer England’s shame,
But better to be lost in Charles his name.”[31]

Pepys takes the opportunity, when the Duke of York is on board, to bespeak his favour; and is overjoyed at the Duke
calling him Pepys. On the 25th the King lands at Dover, and is received by Monk. Pepys tells how the mayor presented
the King with a handsome Bible, which he received, and told the people that “it was the thing he loved above all things
in the world!”

The 5th of June was Pepys’s last day on board, and he was awoke about three o’clock in the morning by the

pouring into his mouth of the water with which the people above were washing the deck; and he was forced to rise and
sleep leaning on the table. He returned to shore better off than he had originally left it, as he took care to make use of
his opportunities by getting men made captains, and by obtaining gratuities for the favours. Fortune continued to smile
upon him, for he had not been many days back in London when Sir Edward Montagu, now a Knight of the Garter, and
in high favour with the King, obtained for him the promise of the place of Clerk of the Acts. On the 28th of June he
clears himself of his old office under Sir George Downing, and is glad to part from this stingy fellow, as he calls him. On
the following day he gets his warrant, but is much cast down when he learns that his predecessor, Mr. Barlow, is still
alive, and coming up to town to look after the place. General Monk’s wife wishes the clerkship to be given to Mr.
Turner, of the Navy Office; but Montagu’s influence secures it for Pepys. Turner then offers to give Pepys £150 to be
joined with him in the patent, but this is refused. Pepys is kept in a great state of excitement respecting Barlow for a
time. He hears that he is a sickly man, and on July 17th he agrees to give him £100 a year out of his raised salary. This
payment continued until February, 1664–65, when Barlow died. Pepys’s remarks on the death are particularly
characteristic: “For which God knows my heart, I could be as sorry as is possible for one to be for a stranger, by
whose death he gets £100 per annum, he being a worthy honest man; but when I come to consider the providence of
God by this means unexpectedly to give me £100 a year more in my estate, I have cause to bless God, and do it from
the bottom of my heart.”[32]

Now, our Diarist has become a man of importance, as one of the principal Officers of the Navy, and Montagu

consequently asks him to dinner for the first time.[33] Yet he has not much faith in his power to keep the place; and
when a Mr. Man offers him £1,000 for it, his mouth waters, and he would gladly take the money if his patron would
agree.[34] On the 23rd of July he takes the oaths as a Clerk of the Privy Seal, which he does not expect to be a very
profitable office; but he soon finds himself making about £3 a day,[35] in addition to his regular salary at the Navy
Office. Being settled at his house in Seething Lane, attached to the office, he is glad to get his little house in Axe Yard
off his hands, which he does on the 17th of September, receiving £41 for his interest in it. About this time he is sworn as
a justice of the peace, and he is “mightily pleased” at the honour, although he confesses that he is wholly ignorant of the
duties.[36]

There were great doings at the coronation of Charles II. in the following year, and the “Diary” is full of particulars

respecting it. Pepys and a party went to a shop in Cornhill to see the procession when the King passed from the Tower
to Whitehall, and while they waited they partook of “wine and good cake.”[37]

On the next day Pepys gets into Westminster Abbey to see the coronation, and sits patiently in a scaffold from a little

after four until eleven. Afterwards he goes into Westminster Hall, sees the banquet, and returns home to bed with the
feeling that he will “never see the like again in this world.” Next morning he wakes with his “head in a sad taking through
the last night’s drink.”[38]

Sometimes the Clerk of the Acts has a great deal of business to get through, and he always sticks to his work

manfully. By going to the office early and staying late he was often able to spare the afternoons for the theatre. Day after
day he gets up and is at his desk at four o’clock in the morning;[39] but this hard work is varied by some idle days. On
June the 5th the Officers of the Navy play at bowls and drink and talk. Pepys takes his flageolet, and plays upon the
leads. Sir William Penn comes out in his shirt-sleeves, and there is more drinking and talking, the result of which is, that
Pepys goes to bed nearly fuddled, and wakes up the next morning with an aching head.

A very important event in the life of the Diarist occurred in the following month. His uncle, Robert Pepys, dies, and a

small property at Brampton, worth about £80 per annum,[40] comes into the possession of old John Pepys, not,

[22]

[23]

[24]

[25]

however, without some litigation on the part of some members of the family. As his father has no money, Samuel takes
all the business affairs into his own hands, and seems to consider the property as his own. When he learns the news, on
the 6th of July, 1661, he posts down to Brampton, leaving London between eleven and twelve o’clock in the morning,
and arriving there about nine o’clock at night. When he gets to his uncle’s house he is very uncomfortable, from the
badness of the food and drink, and the biting of the gnats; but although he is nearly out of his wits, he appears
contented, so as not to trouble his father. He has much work of arrangement to get through, and he remains nearly
sixteen days away from London. When he returns he gives out among his most distinguished friends and acquaintances
that he has had an estate of £200 a year in land left him, beside money, “because he would put an esteem upon
himself.”[41]

Pepys acknowledged to two weaknesses, of which he tried to cure himself by means of vows—not, however, with a

very successful result. The first weakness was a too great addiction to the bottle, and the second a too frequent
attendance at theatres. On July 26th, 1661, we find him making this confession: “Having the beginning of this week
made a vow to myself to drink no wine this week (finding it unfit me to look after business), and this day breaking of it
against my will, I am much troubled for it; but I hope God will forgive me!” On Michaelmas Day, 1661, he took so
much wine that he “was even almost foxed,” so that he “durst not read prayers for fear of being perceived by my
servants in what case I was.” Next year, on the same day, he finds that his “oaths for drinking of wine and going to
plays are out,” and so he resolves to take some liberty, “and then fall to them again.” On December 30th, 1662, we find
him writing: “After dinner drinking five or six glasses of wine, which liberty I now take till I begin my oathe again.”[42]

On October 29th, 1663, he drinks some hippocras, which consists of wine mixed with sugar and spices, under the

belief that he is not breaking his vow, because it is “only a mixed compound drink, and not any wine.” Sir Walter Scott
likened this piece of casuistry to that of Fielding’s Newgate chaplain, who preferred punch to wine because the former
was a liquor nowhere spoken against in Scripture.

It is necessary now to return to the date at which we broke off to follow our hero’s vows. He sums up his blessings

on February 23rd, 1661–62, in these words: “I am 29 years of age, and in very good health, and like to live and get an
estate; and if I have a heart to be contented, I think I may reckon myself as happy a man as any is in the world, for
which God be praised.” Yet, on the next day, he is troubled to part with £5 for five weeks’ music-lessons; and soon
afterwards he complains at his father spending £100 a year.[43] Although he was of a saving turn, he could clearly see
that it was wise to spend money while he could enjoy the results of his spending, and alludes to this on two separate
occasions. On May 20th, 1662, he writes: “But though I am much against too much spending, yet I do think it best to
enjoy some degree of pleasure now that we have health, money, and opportunity, rather than to leave pleasures to old
age or poverty when we cannot have them so properly.” Four years after this we find the same idea in other words:
“The truth is I do indulge myself a little the more in pleasure, knowing that this is the proper age of my life to do it; and
out of my observation that most men that do thrive in the world do forget to take pleasure during the time that they are
getting their estate, but reserve that till they have got one, and then it is too late for them to enjoy it with any
pleasure.”[44]

About this time Pepys is sworn a younger brother of the Trinity House, is made a burgess of Portsmouth, is troubled

with a lawsuit by one Field, signs warrants as a justice of the peace, and is appointed one of the Commissioners for the
Affairs of Tangier. This business with Field, which was connected with the office, gives him much annoyance. At one
time he is in fear of being taken by the bailiffs,[45] and at another he is in such terror that the falling of something behind a
door makes him start with fright.[46]

About the middle of the year 1662 he engages the services of Mr. Cooper, mate of the “Royal George,” of whom he

intends to learn mathematics; but his early attempts do not appear to have been very ambitious, for he begins by
learning the multiplication-table. In the following year, he and Mrs. Pepys learn to dance, and he thinks he shall be able
to manage the coranto well enough. He grudges the cost, however, particularly as he is forced by his oath to give half as
much more to the poor.[47]

The mixture of extravagance and frugality that is constantly exhibited in the “Diary” is most amusing, particularly in the

case of clothes. Thus, when he hears that the Queen is ill, he stops the making of his velvet cloak until he sees whether
she lives or dies.[48] In spite of this forethought, he finds, on casting up his accounts, that he spent £55 on his own
clothes, although, as a set-off against this large sum, Mrs. Pepys’s clothes only cost £12. This love of fine clothes is
continually peeping out, and it has been suggested that he inherited it with the tailor blood of his father. A better reason,
however, may be found in the fact that at one time he was very poor, and “forced to sneak like a beggar” for want of
clothes; so that, now he is in funds, he tries to make up for his former deficiency, and resolves to dress himself
handsomely.[49]

A few years after this he expresses himself as ashamed of the shabbiness of his clothes, when he wished to speak to

the King but did not like to do so, because his linen was dirty and his clothes mean.[50]

At the end of the year 1663, Pepys performed a duty in a way that did him great credit. Sir Edward Montagu, now

Earl of Sandwich, is taken ill, and, on his recovery, he goes for change of air to Chelsea. After a time it gets abroad that
he dotes upon...